


Wrath, Pride, and Revenge

by whiim



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Denial of Feelings, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Internalized Homophobia, Pride, Revenge, Useless Lesbians, wrath - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:20:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26251072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiim/pseuds/whiim
Summary: Sparrow Lusset has one job; deliver that chip.Evangeline Vanderbilt has one goal; get that chip.But when Benny Gecko ruins both of their plans and shoots two people that night in Goodsprings, these two women who should hate eachother, are going to have to work together.They've got to get their revenge without their wrath and pride getting in the way.
Relationships: Benny (Fallout)/Female Courier, Benny (Fallout)/Original Female Character, Craig Boone/Female Courier, Female Courier/Original Female Character, Female Courier/Swank
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Too Proud to Die

“You’ve made your last delivery kid. Sorry you’re twisted up in this scene, from where you’re kneeling it must seem like an 18 karat run of bad luck.” 

A bullet shot goes off to my left, and the woman collapses. She was a bitch anyway. The freak with the bandana kicks her back into what is soon to be our shared grave. The blood from my nose drips onto the sandy ground below and oh my God I  _ fucking hate  _ the Mojave, it’s just sand and dirt and desert and gangbanging psychopaths and chem addicts. 

Vegas is nice at least. 

But it’s Vegas that got me into this mess. 

The aggravatingly handsome, well-dressed, gangbanging psychopath in front of me points his surprisingly stunning gun at my forehead. Or the vague direction of it anyway. It’s for show, the other woman he shot in the chest, probably in reference to the speech he gave before about her breaking his heart. If he was a professional the barrel of the gun would be pressed firmly between my eyes. 

Then again, I’m about to die anyway. Not sure I should be evaluating his gunmanship. Is that the phrase? 

A bullet clicks into the chamber.

I’m about to die, and I suppose I’m mostly wondering how I got into this situation. I’ve been taking courier jobs for years and sure I’m no pushover mailman, and I’ve been shot at and attacked and all sorts before but here I am about to  _ die.  _ I could cry, give him what he wants, beg, scream. But damn if I’m not proud. Or maybe it’s stubbornness. 

I could easily get this guy to not kill me by just a little begging and sobbing, you can tell he’s probably a little more weak than he lets on, more sensitive. So I suppose my pride really will be the death of me, just like mama and my first love told me. 

I suppose  _ you’re  _ wondering how I got into this situation too, made-up-person-in-my-head. Or more importantly you’re wondering who you are. In truth, I suppose you’re not anyone. Or maybe I survive and I write this story down or I’m telling this to someone in person, either way you’re wanting me to move on, or you’re being like,  _ Sparrow, why the fuck do you think your story is important enough that I give a shit?  _ Well my friend;  _ pride _ . Or vanity, whatever you choose to call it, I’m a big headed asshole and I love myself.

I suppose if I were telling this story I would want to go further back to explain how I got here. 

*

“Seriously, give me the chip.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

If she wasn’t such an asshole, and didn’t scowl so much, she’d be pretty. Does that make  _ me  _ an asshole? A sexist one? Can you be sexist against your own sex?

She smiles with too much teeth and suddenly brings her pistol across my face, hard. I feel my nose crunch and the blood immediately streams down my face. I’ve always been prone to nosebleeds anyway. 

“Look,” she isn’t any prettier when she forces a smile like that, “you really won’t like me when I’m angry,”  _ damn,  _ she’s not even angry yet? I felt a lot of rage behind that pistol whip. “And you really won’t like the other people who want that chip, and I don’t want to see them either so just give me it and I can get out of your hair.” 

She runs her fingers through her own hair, which is an amazingly beautiful shade of red, like wine, or the Queen of hearts on a poker card, and breathes in deeply through her nose. “Look,  _ ruby _ , I ain’t giving you anything, I don’t know what you want from me but I ain’t got it.” 

“Well the cat’s outta the bag. Evangeline, baby, how could you betray ol’ Benny like this?” 

So her name is Evangeline, and I suppose this handsome fella in the suit is Benny, assuming he’s talking about himself. 

“Benny, I’m here to get the chip from this dumbass mail girl.”  _ Rude. Benny  _ shakes his head, and smiles and ooh, it makes my heart flutter. He is  _ beautiful _ . So is  _ she!  _ If my life wasn’t in danger right now I think my knees would be weak. “Eva no point lying to me, plus I heard everything kitty cat, now,” he turns to me, tilts his head and smiles, “you must be the sixth courier,  _ right?  _ Well you  _ gotta  _ have the chip baby. And I’m guessing you ain’t about to just hand it over.” 

I throw my hands up in the air with a smile, “courier six? Strange name, never heard of no chip either I’m afraid. However stranger, if you wanna rent a room in Goodsprings down the road, I won’t complain.” I wink, and I even see a smile curl on his face. “Not gonna lie doll, if you were a broad in Vegas, I wouldn’t turn you down. But you’re a courier, with a special little platinum chip I want. Boys, get these two little birds up to Goodsprings graveyard, any means necessary.” 

*

I suppose if I were to explain how I got into that situation, I would have to go even further back. Do I feel like doing that? No. So the crux of it is I got paid to take this weird platinum chip to the New Vegas strip. 

I know the thing is expensive as hell, don’t know what it’s for but I certainly don’t trust that chem-addled redhead or this prick in the fancy suit. And I pride myself on a job well done, I was gonna get that little chip there if it killed me. 

I suppose it has. 

“Truth is, doll, the game was rigged from the start.” 

*

I’m… Alive?

Sunlight streams in behind my eyelashes. Too bright. Feel like I’ve got the worst hangover ever. I lurch into a sitting position and feel a hand on my chest (not inappropriately). 

“Whoa. Hang on there, easy does it, you’ve gotten yourself messed up pretty bad, don’t wanna make yourself worse now, do ya?” 

The man sitting before me is smiling, he looks kinda angry looking, but nothing compared to that ball of wrath I met before. 

Oh God I hope she didn’t survive too.

“How am I… How am I alive?” I sit up, realise I’m almost completely naked, realise I’ve got a pretty nice body and I stop worrying about that a little too much. The man scrunches his face, “Victor and that angry little redhead brought you down here. I fixed you up best I could, you had a fair amount of shrapnel in that noggin’ of yours. Think I did a good job though. Here.” 

He pressed a mirror into my hands, it was cold. I think I might’ve been dreading seeing my face being entirely fucked. Vanity comes into pride I suppose. 

“Damn,” “yeah, your nose was pretty busted, and I’ve tried my best to leave as little scars from the bullet in your head.” 

He’d done that at least. My nose however… At least it was straight I suppose, but there was a thick scar running in an arch along the bridge of it. My face obviously doesn’t look too pleased, “well I got most of it right I suppose, at least the stuff that counts.” That’s one way to look at it. 

I bounce my hair, propping the mirror on my legs, flipping my hair over to the side and braiding the part that has been left behind against my scalp. The doctor moves over to the bookcase and brings back what looks like my clothes. 

“Got it all cleaned up for you.” I hand him back the mirror. He puts my clothes down on the bed and offers a hand to help me up. I swing my legs out of the bed onto the floor and he pulls me to my feet. 

My head is spinning, I stumble a little but it gets better. “There you go. You get dressed then we’ll check your vitals on the vigor tester over there.” 

If you were wondering, my outfit is a now not-so-white white men’s shirt, with a leather corset over the top and a pair of slightly ripped grey jeans. My boots are on the ground by the bed, they’re black. Or they were. They’re pretty scuffed up now. But I suppose if I’m telling you this story, you already know that, cause you’re looking at me. 

The vigor tester machine was dumb. The medical questions he asked me were dumb (“ain’t like I’m expecting to find you got a family history of being shot in the head”  _ no shit _ ). And the dumbest thing of all? He didn’t even have my platinum chip. 

“This is all you had on you when you came in. The girl said the rifle was yours so I kept it with your things. Said all she wanted was some kinda poker chip.” “And did you give it to her?”

Doc Mitchell (that’s the name of the guy who fixed up my face) sighs and scratches the side of his nose. “So all this fuss really is over a poker chip, huh? I’ll never understand you New Vegas types, this is why I moved out here.” “Then where is it?” 

He frowns, regards my face for a moment and shrugs. “Like I said, this is all you had on you. Now don’t look at me like that, what need would I have for a poker chip?” I’m wondering that as well. I try to stay calm, peeling a chunk of skin from my bottom lip with my teeth. “Well I don’t know what it’s worth. You might. It looked expensive, maybe you’re thinking you can fence it out. Either way, if I find out you’re lying, Doc, don’t matter how much shrapnel you pulled outta me, a whole lot of it is gonna end up in you.” 

Probably harsh. But I’m not playing games with this chip, it’s obviously worth something, or means something big. I get up, sling my rifle over my shoulder and sigh. “Thanks though, Doc. For everythin’.” 

  
  


The light that hits my face as I open the door is almost blinding. I don’t know if it’s the bullet to the head or maybe just being inside in the dark but it’s overwhelming. I stumble backwards, still holding onto the door handle, and hear an agitated sigh and the click of a bullet into the barrel of a revolver.  _ Great. _

“So, you really are alive. I thought you were never gonna wake up. Now, the good doctor refused to give me the chip, said that he wasn’t going to give out your things without your permission or some shit.” 

“Oh no, I must be dead, cause here I am in hell. With you.” 

She ignores my comment, and jabs the gun into my shoulder. Part of me wants to tell her to shoot me. One so I can tell if I’m actually dead or not, and two so I can tell if I’m immortal now. Cause I reckon I am. I mean, I got up from being shot in the  _ fucking head.  _ I feel like nobody is appreciating this properly. 

“So give me the fucking chip.” I pat my pockets and chest with a puzzled expression on my face, before doing an exaggerated shrug, “guess I don’t got it.” She groans angrily, and grabs my wrist, staring at the screen on it, “you ever used a pip-boy before?” I shake my head. “Then give it here.” “No fucking way.” 

She groans loudly and throws her hands in the air, “fucking tribals.” It’s this comment that makes me realise I have hurt my head more than I first anticipated. 

I remember the last few days. The order from Mojave express, the chip, Benny and this broad, but before that? Things start to get a little fuzzy. That’s when the panic begins to set in. 

Heartbeat elevated. Faces. A woman. Kindly, soft. A mother? Sister? Grandmother? Sweat beading on the brow. A man now. Perhaps my father? No, too young. A brother? Do I have a brother? Do I have siblings? A love interest? 

Breath becomes short, ragged, out of sync. Where am I from? Places flash like wildfire behind my eyelids. Zion. The Mojave. Vegas. New California. New Reno. Circle Junction. The Divide. Salt Lake City. The Capital Wasteland. Goodsprings.

Nausea, my stomach is turning wildly like a Cazador in a canyon. No. Definitely not Goodsprings. That’s where I am now. 

Her hand is on my face. Soft and cool and gentle. “It’s alright,” this is the first time I’ve heard her speak so softly, “migraine? Memory loss?” “Memory loss.” She nods, turning my face to get a look at me closely, “it’s to be expected. You’ve just had surgery, it’ll clear up, don’t panic.” I was right. She is pretty when she doesn’t frown. 

“Come on. Benny will have the chip and we’re going to get it. And we’re going to make him fucking pay for what he did to us.” 

Revenge? Can’t say I’m surprised. I’m embarrassed some kid from New Vegas took me out so I can’t say I’m opposed to the idea either. But  _ us?  _ She wants us to work together? Or is she going to stab me in the back? 

I suppose our goals must be similar somewhere. Not that I think she has plans of telling me what those goals are. And what else am I supposed to do, she knows Vegas, I know the Mojave. Besides I think we’re both immortal so we’ll be a damn fine, kickass team. 

I hold out a hand and she takes it, grinning. “Revenge it is then.” I say with a grin back at her. She nods, “I knew I was going to like you.” 


	2. Too Irate to Give Up

One final shot, and Joe Cobb hit the ground. I slung my Anti-Materiel rifle back over my shoulder, and grinned down at the redhead who was glaring up at me. Yeah, it was probably overkill, but his head exploded, that was pretty intense. 

_ Get down.  _ She mouthed at me, so I swung my legs off the side of the General Store’s roof, and hopped down onto the ground. She’s spinning the barrel on that cute little revolver she’s got. It’s a pretty sweet gun, to be fair. A nice little custom .357 Magnum revolver that she calls Lucky. 

_ It’s the gun I should’ve been shot with. _

“Why the fuck did we stay here to help them? That was no trouble at all.” I sighed, and elbowed her, “these folks got themselves into a whole mess o’ trouble that they ain’t want no part in. We brought trouble to their lil’ town so the least we can do is help,  _ Eva _ .” 

“Except  _ we  _ didn’t bring the Powder Gangers to Goodsprings,  _ Sparrow. _ ” 

“Naw, but we  _ did _ bring Great Khans and New Vegas nutjobs.” 

She spat at the ground by my feet, so I bumped my hip with hers. A few of the settlers were cheering, probably happy their little town should be finally getting some peace and quiet. Can’t say I blame them. If my hometown was in trouble, I’d wanna defend it. Wherever my hometown is.

“You get some sick kick out of this don’t you? Some kinda hero complex, huh!?” I grin over my shoulder at Eva, as Ringo runs over with Sunny, who throws her arms around my shoulders. She’s warm, and her chest pressed against mine makes my face heat up further. “Seriously, thank you for helping me out. Here.” Ringo drops a bag of caps into my hand, Eva comes over, glaring at the guy. 

“Thought you said you had no funds to pay us? What kinda bullshit was that?” I shoot her a look. Ringo shrugs and rubs the back of his neck, “it’s all I have left. B-but if you come find me at the Crimson Caravan Company I can give you more!” “Yeah! And Trudy said y’all can get a discount in the saloon, don’t know about Chet though, he’s pretty mad at you for climbing all over his roof.” 

*

Evangeline had decided that we were heading to Vegas via Primm. I really didn’t get why, as it would literally take us longer to do it this way, so sure as shit, I decided to voice this opinion.

“Eva,” I heard her groan the minute I said it, “y’know it’d be damn sure quicker to head through Quarry Junction, and Sloan.” I had already checked the map on the Pip-Boy the Doc had given me, it was definitely quicker. Evangeline  _ had _ to know this, either that or these New Vegas types really are dumber than you’d think.

“If you want to fight with Deathclaws and more Cazadores than you can shake a stick at, be my guest. But besides that, I’d rather not tangle with Benny on his own turf, he would’ve gone this way too and if we can head him off before Vegas that would be infinitely better for us.” 

I supposed that made sense, Eva already had her doubts on whether she would even be allowed to get onto the strip, let alone close to the Tops, so she was already orchestrating a plan that involved Sparrow sneaking in there. 

“Well I’m damn lucky to have a travellin’ partner who is both beautiful  _ and _ smart.” She scoffed and murmured something very aggressive-sounding under her breath. I meant it though, she seemed pretty smart but more so, I meant that she was pretty. And she was, in a sort of, scary, angry way. I’m apparently a sucker for redheads. 

I jogged a little to catch up with her, and looped one of my arms with hers. She rolled her eyes, “are you fucking stupid, now if we get into a fight we won’t be able to get our guns out as quickly. Man that bullet really did a number on your-!” I threw both arms around her in a hug, “oh hush up, spicy pepper.” She shoved me off her, and we returned to walking side by side silently. 

*

Primm is… Well, Primm is a dump. The NCR soldier out front told us the city was on lockdown, which is great and all but, we weren’t going to listen. I mean, if we were too stubborn to die, we’re hardly gonna just bend over backwards for a bunch of squaddies. 

Although we probably should’ve listened, as Eva nearly lost a leg when we tried to cross the bridge. 

So, now here I am, smoking a cigarette whilst she crawls along the bridge disarming landmines. It’s fairly impressive, in fact I didn’t know she had any knowledge of explosives, but here we are. I could’ve done it, I’m something of an explosives buff, but like I’ve already said plenty of times, she’s stubborn as a damn Brahmin.

“You coming or what?” I looked up from the ground, and sure enough, there stood Ev, with a bag crammed full of landmines, on the other side of the bridge. I don’t really know how safe it is to have a bag full of landmines, but I’ve got sticks of dynamite hanging off my belt so I don’t think I really have the right to comment.

I meet her over the bridge, and she huffs, flouncing off in the direction of the old casino. Typical New Vegas nutjob. I follow close by, when a bullet whizzes past my head. Ev grabs my wrist and drags me round the building, “please don’t develop a habit for being shot in the head. I’m not sure how many miracles we’ve got left.” I laugh and pull my rifle off my back, loading a bullet into it. “There’s two comin’ ‘round tha corner, and one tryin’a snipe from the tracks up there. You take care of this fella, I’ll get the one from up there.” 

Ev grunts and I dash behind one of the pillars, pressing my side to it whilst I ready my rifle. She nods once and spins the barrel on her revolver, running out from behind the building and opening fire on one of the outlaws. I line up my shot, the  _ sniper  _ is distracted trying to get a clear shot on Evangeline. Luckily for the pair of us, the two other outlaws are in the way, so he’s gonna struggle to do so. 

Deep breath. Squeeze the trigger and…  _ Release. _

My rifle fires, and I see the body fall off the old coaster track. That’s gonna be messy to clean up.

Ev has taken down one of the outlaws. I take a stick of dynamite off my belt, and light it with the cigarette still dangling between my teeth. I throw it as hard as I can at the other outlaw and it explodes the minute it hits him. That’s gonna be messy too. I’m pretty damn awesome. 

“Do you need to do things so fucking extravagantly?” Evangeline turns up her nose and tries to get the box of revolver ammo from what remains of the corpse, “just… Disgusting, Sparrow.” I snicker and poke one of the detached legs with the toe of my boot, “you’re the one corpse squatting.” “It is  _ not  _ corpse squatting! It is scavenging for supplies so we can save some fucking caps. Need I remind you of the fact we have to get all the way to Vegas with barely enough between us to rent a cheap Gomorrah whore?” I raise a brow, “Eva if we were going to share a whore it sure as shit wouldn’t be a cheap one.” 

She flings an insult at me and stalks into the building. The door almost shuts on me. “Oh yeah, just drop the door on me, fuckin’ nutcase.” The angry taller redhead spins around, glaring, “Sparrow, I  _ fucking _ hate you,” “oh yeah the feelin’s mutual sweetheart.” 

An elderly man is staring at us. Along with a fair few people inside the casino. He flicks the ash from his cigarette into an old glass bowl, before bringing it back to his lips. “Something I can help you lovebirds with?”

I pushed Eva out of the way, and held out a hand to him, smiling as best as I could. “Hey, ahm Sparrow. Courier. Was wonderin’ if you knew who ran the Mojave Express across the street.” He fixed me with a mighty confused expression but shook my hand, “Sparrow Lusset righ’? I remember you, mighty strange job you were on, the delivery went well then I take it?” I barked out a laugh and dropped his hand, “not quite actually, the package was stolen up by Goodsprings by some no good New Vegas outlaw who shot me in the head. We heard he mighta come up this way, was wonderin’ if you’d seen him.” 

“Ayep, I knew that package was bad luck from the moment it and it’s siblings crossed my desk. Metaphorically of course. Seein’ as that bullet done mess with your memory, I’ll introduce myself again, name’s Johnson Nash, husband to Ruby Nash, that fine woman o’er there that makes the best radscorpion casserole you ever did taste.” 

“Yeah this is great and all, business party reunion, but we need that lead on Benny.” Mr Nash looked at me and I just rolled my eyes, he could’ve gotten it way worse off dear Ruby so I won’t be complaining. He looked between the two of us, and flicked his cigarette into the bowl.

“Well, I reckon we saw your New Vegas friend, and by we I mean our good ol’ Deputy Beagle, but-,” “great, where can we find this Beagle?” Johnson Nash let out a slow sigh, and I resisted the urge to shove a stick of dynamite down the redhead’s throat. “Well, like I was about to tell you, Beagle is locked up inside the Bison Steve. When all them Powder Gangsters showed up, we were forced to hide up in here, whilst poor ol’ Beagle got stuck inside the old hotel. Luckily it seems the group of convicts that came here seem to be some kinda splinter group, so they haven’t been getting any backup from the big gang of them up North.” 

I hummed, and glanced over the local map of Primm. The Bison Steve was an old hotel directly opposite the Vikki and Vance. Since we’d already taken out seemingly the only convicts actively patrolling the streets of Primm, it seemed the only danger we would face would be inside. 

“Well, I’m immortal, what about you, Evangeline?” She groaned and clipped me round the back of my head, glaring all the while, “you are not fucking immortal. We’ll get your damn deputy, but if he doesn’t have the information we need I won’t be fucking pleased, wastelander.” She skulks off, slamming the door behind her. Mr Nash sighs deeply, and lights up another cigarette. Can’t say I blame him, reckon I’m about to take smoking back up too just being around that little spitfire. “Will try my best to get your deputy back in one piece from them gangsters, sir.” He nods and smiles reproachfully, “I reckon it ain’t just those gangsters you need to be worried about lil’ lady.” 

Ominous. But I suppose he ain’t wrong. So far my little tato has been nothing but trouble.

  
  


She’s standing outside the Bison Steve. She stares down the sight of  _ Lucky _ at me. 

“Just make sure y’actually kill me. You Vegas types ain’t so good at tha’.” The look she fixes me with is amusing, but doesn’t help ease the worries in the back of my mind that she’s gonna shoot me the minute I let my guard down. I suppose if she does that, she won’t have to split the caps or whatever she’s in this for. 

Maybe if I shoot her, I won’t need to split the caps.

Or whatever  _ I’m  _ in this for.

“Are you going to use  _ that _ ?” I assume she’s talking about my rifle. I slide it off my back and run my fingertips along the name scratched into it.  _ Daisy.  _ I don’t know who that was, but they were clearly important enough for me to name my gun after ‘em. 

“I suppose not. Probably ain’t the best weapon to use inside I suppose. It’s loud and takes a while to reload,” “no, it isn’t. And please try not to use your dynamite too please. I don’t want to risk losing a limb.” I force out a laugh and raise an eyebrow, pulling my Ripper off my belt, “so you expect me to go runnin’ in there with  _ you,  _ with only this lil’ melee weapon and nothin’ else? Hell naw. I’ll try to be quiet but if things get hairy I ain’t gonna jus’ not attack nothin’.” 

Evangeline raises an eyebrow at me and opens the door, “I thought you said you were  _ immortal _ ?” I don’t answer, and just stalk through the door. Standing in the doorway on the other side of the room was one of the outlaws. He saw us immediately, and opened his mouth, probably to holler for help. 

But no sound came out, as a small, silver knife, pierced his throat. And I discovered another thing that made me distrust Evangeline. 

She caught him before he hit the ground, put him down gently, and pulled the knife from his throat, wiping it on her thigh. “Where did you learn t’do tha’?” No response. We continued making our way through the old hotel, spotting several of the damn outlaws in the next room. We lowered our voices, “they’ll be keeping the deputy in the kitchen,” “how do you know that?” “I’ve been here before, it’s where I found Lucky, and one of the biggest rooms where people used to sleep is connected to the kitchen and I can almost guarantee the convicts will be holed up in there. But it does mean there will be a fair few of them in there.” 

I peered round the corners at the group of outlaws seemingly awaiting for us. “Alrigh’. Here we go then.” I tugged two sticks of dynamite off my belt, and grinned at Evangeline who was opening her mouth to say something. Too late. I lit them up and hurled them down the corridor. “Oh shit! Explosives!” Evangeline cursed and spun her magnum, “what part of quick and quiet are you too fucking dumb to understand?” I couldn’t help but cackle, in her face, I was rewarded with a scowl and I ran into the next room with my Ripper held tightly in my grasp. 

I slammed it straight through one of the outlaws' thin shirt, the sound was… Gross to say the least, but that’s a fact of life in the Mojave wasteland, things are pretty gross. I heard Eva’s pistol fire and the only convict still standing hit the ground. 

_ Or so we thought.  _

“Hold on, Sparrow get back!” I felt her hand on the back of my shirt, and she shoved me. I slid slightly across the floor and hit the wall, turning just in time to see a convict with a flamer light up my fiery rival. The nickname I’d been giving her took on a whole new meaning as she let out a scream, that, with the smell of burning flesh, made me feel violently sick. She fired wildly at the convict before throwing herself to the ground, trying to put herself out. 

Luckily she did. I took down the last convict before running over to her, pulling her head up into my lap. “ _ Fuckin’ hell,  _ Evangeline. What were you playin’ at?” She hissed through her teeth and opened her eyes to look at me, “didn’t know if you…  _ shit,  _ if you had armored weaving on your clothes, I do.” I sweeped a hand over her abdomen, her clothing  _ was  _ surprisingly okay, a little singed in some places. “Here, I’ll take out the rest, you stay here,” I pulled a stimpak from one of my hip pouches and pushed it into the rippled flesh of her belly. “Seriously, Eva, don’t fuckin’ move.” I propped her up against the wall, gave her my canteen and a couple more stimpaks, and pushed myself to my feet, moving over to the corpse of the convict, slinging his flamer onto my back. “Have… have you ever used one of those before?” I shook my head and grinned at her, “how hard can it be?” “Is it not heavy as shit?” “Hush it, sugarcube. You sit there all comfy and I’ll be back once I’ve sorted out that lawbringer.” 

I remember hearing a song called Ring of Fire once. I wish I’d had a holotape of that song cause as ominous as this shit sounds, it would’ve been fitting, and maybe a little amusing, to have it playing as I torched the outlaws. 

*

“ _ Sparrow. _ ” She sounded kinda relieved to see me. “What did the deputy say? Where’s Benny?” Ah, that’s why she cares. “Mm, he’s headed out towards Boulder City, that’s where him and the Khans were gonna settle accounts.” She tried to push herself up and I shook my head, “no, we’re staying here for tonight so y’can recover. I dragged mattresses in from the other room and Mrs Nash gave me some casseroles for supper.” I helped her onto the mattress and pulled the zipper on her top down a little, “mind if I check y’burns?” She shrugged and turned her face away, “whatever.” 

I don’t know if I imagined the colour in her cheeks, or if it was because she was hot from the burns, or if it was the lighting. 

“I got some antimicrobial in my bag. I need to put some on your burns cause it’s lookin’ a might angry already,” “do whatever, Sparrow, just hurry it the fuck up.” She turned her face even further from mine, and although I would’ve found it less awkward if she’d spoken to me, but oh well. I applied the antimicrobial as respectful-like as possible, didn’t want her to think I was just trying to creep on her or nothing. 

Her breath picked up and she swatted my hands away, “fuck sake, Sparrow, just hand that shit over and let me do it.” I did so. She’s scary when she’s mad.

She winced and whimpered and whined and it made me feel right uncomfortable, so in a bid to ignore that shit, I set to reheating the casserole, and searched one of the back rooms for some sealed sunset sarsaparilla.

We ate in mutual silence. I don’t know if she wanted to talk, but I did. In fact she didn’t even look at me once, and if I’m being honest, the lack of attention was making me a might uncomfortable. “I’m going to sleep,” “oh, right, are y’sure?” “Well I’m not saying it for giggles.” An odd statement, but ok. I watched as she tried to make herself comfortable, despite the burns, and once I was certain she was asleep, I grabbed my jacket and slung it over her, before laying down myself. 


	3. Damaged Pride

I’m woken up the next morning by the little firecracker, of course. She’s hissing and whining and making a mighty commotion. I sit up and rub my eyes for a moment before managing to focus on her. She’s trying to get her sleeves up to look at her burns. It’s a ribbed, red material, which I can imagine would be rubbing those burns something bad. “C’mere, Ruby.” She glares at me with a blazing fury that I’m starting to get used to. “Eva, seriously, lemme get a look. You don’t wanna be lookin’ like a damn ghoul, and aggravatin’ those burns worse ain’t gonna help.” 

I watched the expression on her face change immediately, the rage melting away to pure tired reluctance, and she dragged herself over to sit in front of the mattress I was on. She looks away from me and looks at my jacket that she had been unknowingly using as a blanket earlier. I think it’s pre-war. I don’t much remember where I got it from but it’s made of some type of dark brown, crinkled leather that I don’t recognise. On the back is a cracked painting of some half dressed chick with an aeroplane. I remember seeing one of those in a book somewhere. The collar is a cream fur, it gets your neck mighty hot so it’s not great for those warm mojave days, I mean, the place is literally a desert. It has patches on it too, one I know is the old world flag, stars and stripes, one is another flag I don’t recognise, it’s white with a red circle, and one over the left breast is another aeroplane. 

“The good news is, it ain’t gonna get infected, thanks to my antimicrobial. But, it’s gonna feel pretty damn bad for a few days. You’ll heal up nice, and it ain’t gonna scar so there’s that. Unless you scar easy of course.” She shakes her head and looks over at me, “no, I’ve always been quite lucky in that I don’t scar, it proves useful, in my line of work.” It shocks me, what the fuck is she talking about? “Eva. Are you some kinda… Uh… Gomorrah girl?” 

She exhales loudly, and gets up to go grab her boots and the leather vest thing she wears over her red shirt. “You have to ruin everything, don’t you, Sparrow?” I frown and scratch the side of my head, “what? I was bein’ genuine. Like, no disrespect to you, in fact, probably more respect if you are, y’know.” She groaned and cursed loudly, slinging the pack onto her back. So far, we’d been sharing the load. The bag itself was a gift from Sunny Smiles, and we kept extra ammo, food, water and chems in it, we took turns carrying it. It was  _ technically  _ her turn. 

“No, Sparrow, I am not a fucking  _ whore _ .” I squeaked and raised my brows at her, “hey, I ever said the double-u word. Bit extreme.  _ But _ , the way you said it, did make it sound pretty, y’know, questionable like.” She grunts at me, “first of all, I work for the Tops, not Gomorrah. Secondly, I’m not happy you assumed I was a prostitute,” I can’t help but snicker, “you’re never happy. But I didn’t assume y’were a prostitute, it was why I was so surprised. Too pretty to be a prostitute.” 

She scoffs, but I see the red dusting on her cheeks.

*

“So, what’s Novac like?” 

“Another Mojave wasteland shithole. Damn fucking place is full of them. There’s a reason that you find everyone who is anyone inside New Vegas. You’ve never been there?”

She’s been a little more receptive to conversation recently. It’s nice cause it makes me feel way less lonely, and I seriously hate feeling ignored. Something about it just makes my skin crawl. If I mentioned it to Eva she would say something about my obsession with attention or my hero complex or something. She’s so angry. And kinda mean.

“Not that I remember at least.”

“Still drawing blanks?” I nod, and she pats my shoulder twice. Now, I reckon it was meant to be sympathetic, but it just felt kinda condescending.

“Novac is based out of an old pre-war motel, you know what a motel is? You can’t be that fucking savage,  _ surely. _ ”  _ And, she’s back to being a bitch. _

“And why are we headin’ to Novac? Deputy said they were goin’ out Boulder City way.”

“Because we might be able to head them off along the way. No doubt, they would’ve stopped in Nipton, that place is filth. It’s got the smut of Gomorrah without the little class the place manages to keep. Benny  _ loves  _ it.”  _ Damn,  _ sounds like I would love it too. 

“But yeah, if they’ve stopped in Nipton they’ll be further behind and we’ll be able to catch them. Or, we can cut through Nipton and catch them at Novac. Worst case, someone there will know which direction they went. That’s Nipton, just over that ridge there. Not far at all.”

She stretched, and her shirt rode up higher. I looked over. I don’t know why. Don’t blame me. She’s not particularly friendly, she’s like a cactus flower, real pretty but you can’t get too close. She’s got some ink, it’s snaking up on her hip above her jeans. “What the  _ fuck  _ are you looking at?” I’ve seen the one on her face, it’s a small black heart just below her right eye. “You got a tattoo?” She scoffs and rolls her eyes. They’re green. I don’t think I’ve mentioned that. Really green though. It’s a colour you don’t see much in the wasteland, especially not in the Mojave. But I do remember seeing it somewhere. I remember seeing grass and trees and…

_ The sky is clear. The sun is shining but it’s not so hot that you wanna scratch your skin off. We’re not in the Mojave. There’s a big tree. Huge. The bark is curled and cracked and worn. People have carved initials and hearts into it. My fingers graze over a heart with some initials in it. SL +...  _

_ “Mommy?”  _

I freeze up. My mouth feels so dry. I think I’m going to vomit. 

“Sparrow?” 

Where am I? Who am I? My legs are trembling, I reach out to find something to grab onto, but to no avail. 

“ _ Sparrow!  _ What the hell are you playing at?”

I feel myself hit the ground.

*

“You’re awake,  _ thank fucking Christ _ .” 

_ Awake?  _ What happened? Where am I? Evangeline?

Her hand was so soft on my cheek. My head felt wet. I blinked a few times, trying to take in my surroundings. It looked like an old trailer, or caravan. I was laid out on a mattress. She took a cloth from my head and squeezed it out into an old plastic bowl. 

“Are you braindead?” I frown and lift a hand to my head. It’s wet. “My head is wet.” She rolls her eyes.  _ No,  _ go back to being nice. 

“I thought maybe you had heat exhaustion, so I soaked this cloth for your head. You’re lucky you’re so small and light. I almost left you out there to die.” I try to push myself up and I feel one of her hands on my back, helping me up. “Nipton is a no go.” I frown at her and raise my eyebrows, one of her hands settle on the back of my head, and she holds a flask up to my mouth. “The place was hit by a legion raid. No signs of Benny. A  _ lot  _ of Powder Gangers, though. Strung up, missing limbs. All kinds of shit. Awful.” 

I take the bottle and sip at it. It’s not purified. I can taste the metallic tang of radiation. “In fact, the only reason  _ I’m  _ not dead is because apparently I’m not a profligate, or maybe I am one, and he wants me to, uh, spread word of Legion  _ atrocities. _ ” She barks out a laugh, as if she doesn’t consider the legion to be an actual threat like the rest of the wasteland. I have to admire it. “So what do we have to do?” She rolled her eyes, “we are not doing shit for the Legion. They’ve already moved on anyway. What are they going to do about it?” I frowned and put the cap back on the bottle and handed it back. She clipped it onto her belt and tried to fluff up her hair. Her curls blatantly weren’t natural, and days of being outside of the fineries of New Vegas weren’t helping her. 

“You will have to forgive me for leaving you alone here while I poked around the town though. Didn’t want you to die but I needed to find Benny.” I’d forgotten that our temporary alliance was based solely on her getting her revenge. As the days have passed, I’ve realised I want revenge too. I mean, Benny made me look bad. And I didn’t deliver on a job. “Oh, why did you go down? Was I right that it was heat exhaustion?” I look up at her and I shake my head, “no. I think… I think I have a daughter.” 

Evangeline visibly tenses. “Oh. Right.” Unreadable, but that isn’t new. “So I suppose you’ve got a husband or something, then.” I shrug, and scratch the back of my neck, “I don’t know. I didn’t get that much.” She nods and bites at her nail for a few seconds, “you ready to move on?” I think I’ve done something to upset her, or said something, maybe it’s because I’ve not seemed grateful for her helping me. I grab her arm, loosely, and I smile gently at her, “thank you, Eva. For not just leavin’ me t’die. I know it woulda been easier.” 

The redhead sucked in a breath and swiftly turned her head to look at me, her eyebrows raised in a way I’ve never seen before. Not a hint of fury or exhaustion or sarcasm. Her face heated up and she shook my hand off, “yeah, well, it’s only because I am planning how to sort Benny out and you’re a key part in it.” And then, Evangeline turned, and left the caravan. I really have no idea what I’ve done to make her all weird with me but she doesn’t really surprise me anymore. My relationship with Eva is like one step forward and four back. 

I followed her out of the caravan, and she’d already started walking off. A bark scorpion hissed to my left, clacking it’s claws. They’re kinda gross, I never really thought about it before. I tugged my Ripper from my belt and jammed it clean through the scorpion as I stopped on it. Disgusting. “Sparrow, are you coming?” I jogged after her. “Christ…” Plumes of smoke rose from the remains of the settlement, it was pure carnage, in fact I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it before. I knew the legion were brutal and bloodthirsty and evil but this was something entirely different. Everything Eva had said was right, Powder Gangers and settlers alike were nailed to crosses. I didn’t even dare to look inside the buildings, God knows what was lurking inside. 

Despite the fact Evangeline is significantly taller,  _ and my short stature _ , our legs are about the same length, even so, she’s way faster than me, and she walks even faster when she’s miffed. Which is a lot. I jog a little to keep up with her pace, and she seems to catch on, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye and slowing down. I open my mouth to say something, and she lifts her hand, fingertips curled down slightly. “What?” “Shut up.” I frown a little and she swiftly pulls Lucky from her belt, looking around the area. We’re in a sort of canyon, the natural rocky walls on either side would be great at providing cover and protection. 

They would be great for providing cover and attention if we weren’t being attacked from above. A group of Vipers opened fire on us immediately, most of them looked like they had 10mm pistols. 

“Holy  _ shit! _ ” I grabbed my shoulder, the searing pain spread aggressively through my entire torso. How the hell had I forgotten what a gunshot felt like. I dropped to the ground and squeezed it as tightly as I could. My heart was pounding, and I swear I could feel it in my arm. Evangeline is screaming something, she grabs me by the collar and drags me behind an old car. 

An explosion goes off somewhere to my left, and I realise one of them has a fucking grenade rifle. The bullet didn’t go clean through, it’s likely due to the distance and the fact it’s not the most powerful pistol. It burns, it’s hot and it  _ burns.  _

My shaky hands try desperately to pull my rifle from my back to provide Evangeline with some covering fire. My eyes are blurred with tears threatening to spill over from the pain. I wipe them with the back of my hand, and try to get a focus on her. She’s desperately trying to take them out with only the stupid little revolver. She’s not doing badly, one of them was shot in the leg, and they fell from the top of the hill, another has collapsed up there and I assume she took them down too. 

Two more explosions go off, one close enough that the heat from it almost makes me forget about the heat emanating from the bullet hole in my shoulder. The other is far too close to Evangeline and she’s thrown backwards, her back hitting the rough stony ground. 

“Evangeline!” I scream. I can’t tell if she responds, my ears are ringing. She has the meds which means I can’t do anything about the agony I’m in. I curse under my breath and rest my rifle on the bonnet of the old car, I line up a shot and thank whatever Lord above for the impeccable perception I have. Fuck knows whatever I did before I was a courier, but I should look at joining up with the NCR. I hear they have a sniper’s division. 

Evangeline gets back up, and a few shots from Lucky takes down the Viper gunslinger with the grenade rifle. One in metal armor grabs it and slides down the hill, before sprinting towards us. He jams a grenade into the barrel and lifts it, pointing it at me. My heart pounds in my throat and I sling my rifle over my shoulder. It aggravates the bullet wound and I hiss through gritted teeth, trying to get out of the Viper’s line of sight. 

“Fucking…  _ No _ !  _ Sparrow,  _ stay the fuck down!” 

I thank whatever-God again, as the Viper overestimates his shot and it explodes against the canyon wall to the left and behind me. I can see the curses fall from his lips as my ears ring again. As he is trying to reload the apparently complicated explosive weapon, Eva grabs one of her throwing knives from her belt. The first she throws lodges itself in the top of his armor. The second hits. Hitting him clean in the eye. He wobbles once, and lifts one of his hands to his face, the grenade rifle hitting the ground loudly. 

His fingers find the knife in his eye and he screams, pulling it out. 

Big mistake.

He hits the ground. 

I do too. 

My legs give out and the pain finally overtakes me, my adrenaline running out at last. I can’t stop the tears that stream down my face, and I am  _ fucking  _ embarassed. It’s weak and it’s stupid and I think that just makes me cry more. I see the outline of Evangeline’s legs in front of me through the tears and wet eyelashes. I’m not sobbing, in fact I’m almost silent besides the occasional sharp intake of breath, but the fact I’ve got this many tears streaming down my cheeks makes me feel truly feeble. 

She crouches down in front of me, and pops the claps on my corset, tossing it to the side. I’m disgusted with myself that yet again she is having to take care of me. She unbuttons my shirt even further and slides the sleeves down, poking at the bare skin around the bullet wound. “I need to cut it out.” 

“ _ Hey,  _ little bird, can you hear me?” 

Her voice is softer again, and I looked up at the red-head in front of me. “That’s it, atta girl, did you hear me? I need to cut out the bullet, it’s stuck in your arm and I don’t know yet if it’s fragmented.” She pushes me back against the car and straddles me, perched atop my lap. Our pack hits the floor and she takes out a bottle of vodka. “Ready?” I take the bottle in shaking hands, and take a swig of it, “ayep.” 

I feel like I now understand to some degree how Evangeline felt when she was attacked with the incinerator. I felt like my whole body was being consumed by flames, even though I knew she had only splashed the alcohol on my shoulder. I saw the glint of one of her knives in the sunlight, and then I felt it. I cried out, and she hushed me gently, clicking her tongue at me. “You’re being so brave, little bird.” I swallowed the lump in my throat, my pride was damaged, completely. But, her cooing and the nickname she’d given me, even though it was probably condescending, felt kinda nice. 

The knife was pushed further into my shoulder and I heard her sigh. It was too much, “oh fuckin’ Christ fuck me with my Ripper,” it sounded like she sniggered, I looked up at her through my eyelashes and she wiggled her lips, trying to straighten her face. “‘Ave we got any fuckin’ meds?” “Did you know your accent is more prominent when you’re in pain,” “ayup, and it makes me feel fuckin’ stupid,” “well, they do say excessive profanity shows a lack of intelligence,” I scoffed, but cried out when she flicked out a piece of metal with a knife. “That’s rich, ah! Comin’ from you,” “shut the fuck up.” 

I know her cursing ain’t a sign of her being unintelligent, it’s pretty clear she’s smart. She’s just angry. “Eva? Chems?” She snorts, it’s weirdly cute, and she drags the bag closer to herself, “yes, sorry,” she uses one hand to fumble through it, before pulling out a med-x syringe. I realise I should’ve let her use it when she was suffering with her burns. “Only one dose I think, I don’t know if Novac has a lot of chems so we better hope we ain’t gonna need anymore before we get to Boulder City.” 

I’m struck with the reminder of what we’re out here doing. We’re meant to be heading Benny off at Novac before he can get to Boulder City. Looking up at the sky I can see the sun is gradually getting lower. The sky is growing darker. And I realise I’ve slowed down our journey yet again. The chances of us beating Benny to Boulder City let alone Novac was slim. But here she was, smiling at me and cooing as she picks bullet fragments from my shoulder and not even being annoyed about the fact her revenge-, no,  _ our  _ revenge is going to be even harder to achieve.

_ Maybe Evangeline isn’t just a closed book of wrath and nothing else. _


End file.
